Poison!
by Elensaa
Summary: AU. No HBP. When Harry is given an unknown poison, a race against time begins to cure him and destroy Voldemort before he dies. Who poisoned him? And how does Draco fit in? HD SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Harry Potter, they are all J K Rowling's creations.

**Summary:** When Harry is given an unknown poison, a race against time begins to cure him and destroy Voldemort before Harry dies. Who poisoned Harry? And where does Draco fit in? H/D SLASH

A/N: Hey! Yes, another! I can't help but churn them out. I don't know why I keep getting random ideas for fics! I suppose it's a good thing in the end. Well, let me know how you like it please!

**Ch. 1.**

It was the twentieth of July, and Petunia Dursley was cleaning the kitchen. It was raining outside so instead of mowing the lawn, her nephew, Harry Potter, was dusting the living room. Mid way through wiping the sides, Petunia heard a gigantic crash and the sound of breaking china from the front room. Putting down her cloth, the bony woman stormed towards the sound.

"Boy! What have you done this ti-"

She stopped short at the sight in front her. The raven haired boy was sprawled unconscious on the floor, a broken ornament next to him.

Petunia wondered what to do. Vernon was at work, and Dudley was out with a friend. Neither of them would know if she called an ambulance. She could get her nephew checked out and make out that he'd just wandered off again. Normally, she wouldn't bother, but this looked serious, there was no reason for the boy to collapse. Vernon wouldn't approve, but Harry was her nephew, and though she thought him a freak, she had a responsibility to look after him. Picking up the phone, Petunia dialled 999.

"Hello? Ambulance please."

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

The doctors were very confused. A fifteen-year-old boy, slim and slightly underfed, but obviously in good physical shape had been brought into the hospital in a coma. But there was no head trauma, no _reason_ for his sudden collapse. And the tests on his body's functions. The results were very odd. Again, there were unexplained problems.

"Something's caused his immune system to almost completely shut down," one of the doctors told Petunia. "From the looks of the tests we've been doing, in the next two years, his whole body will slowly stop functioning. We don't know why, or how to stop it. I'm sorry, Mrs. Dursley, your nephew is dying."

Petunia blinked, taken aback. Then,

"I need to go home and finish the cleaning before my husband comes home."

"Are you sure?" the doctor frowned. "Wouldn't you rather sit with Harry for a while?"

"No, thank you. I should be getting back," Petunia replied.

With that, she turned and strode out of the hospital, heading for the taxi rank and her ride home.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

With the lasagne in the oven and the living room finished, Petunia decided to empty the bins, as the rubbish was to be collected the next morning. It wasn't until she emptied the bin in her bedroom that she found something odd. A large, dark bottle, wrapped in a tissue was stuffed amongst the rubbish. Reading the label, the horse-like woman frowned. There was only one word written on it, and it wasn't English. Taking the cork out, she peered inside. It was empty.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

It wasn't until halfway through dinner that Harry's whereabouts were brought up in conversation.

"Where's the boy?" Vernon grunted as he shovelled food into his mouth.

"He's in hospital," Petunia answered evenly.

"What?" Dudley looked up.

"He collapsed this afternoon," Petunia explained. "I called an ambulance."

"You did what?" Vernon spluttered.

"I called an ambulance," Petunia repeated.

Vernon's moustache bristled.

"Why?" he asked.

"Those freaks at the train station warned us to look after him. I was worried that if I didn't take him to the hospital, they'd do something to us," Petunia snapped. "Besides, he's my nephew. It's my duty to care for him."

"Petunia," Vernon's eyes closed briefly. "We don't have to do what those freaks said. They can't possibly be watching him all the time. Besides, we have to show them that they don't scare us!"

"Vernon, it was my choice," a weary tone entered Petunia's voice. "Anyway, we won't have to worry about him for much longer. He's dying, and the doctors don't know why."

"He's dying?" there was a strange tone in Dudley's voice.

Vernon, on the other hand, looked quite pleased.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

It wasn't until dessert that Petunia mentioned the bottle.

"Vernon, I found this in our bedroom bin," she pulled it out of her pocket. "I've never seen it before. What was it for?"

A callous smirk crossed her husband's face.

"I used it to take care of the boy," he answered proudly.

"What do you mean?" frowned Petunia.

"For fifteen years he's been infecting this house with his freakiness!" Vernon snarled maliciously. "And then at King's Cross! Those other weirdos telling us how to treat the boy! He stays in our house, we can treat him however we want! It's none of their business! So I decided to teach them and the boy a lesson."

"What did you do?" Petunia whispered in dread.

"One of the men at work told me about this strange little shop he'd been to in London," explained Vernon, savagely. "I realised that it was a freak shop from his description. I decided to visit it, and fight freakiness with freakiness, so to speak."

//FLASHBACK//

_Standing outside the dingy little shop tucked away in a back alley, Vernon Dursley took a deep, steadying breath. This shop held the key to getting rid of his nephew, but it was also owned by a freak. It was dangerous. Squaring his shoulder, Vernon walked inside._

_He found himself in a deeply shadowed, small space filled with dusty shelves holding all manner of grimy bottles._

"_May I help you sir?" came a voice, rusty from not being used. "A person such as yourself can only see my door if he has dark intentions in his heart. You must surely be in need of assistance."_

_Vernon turned to see a small, stooped man, with long, stringy hair and an unwashed face._

"_Yes, you can help me," he replied. "I want something with which to kill my nephew."_

_A twisted smile showed the shopkeeper's yellow teeth._

"_You've come to the right place, sir. I specialise in poisons," he said with glee. "What kind were you looking for? I have poisons that kill fast, ones for slow deaths, ones that are untraceable in the blood, ones that-"_

"_I want something that will kill him slowly," Vernon interrupted. "But not pleasantly. And preferably, I like for it not to be traced."_

"_I have just the thing," the shopkeeper nodded. "A poison of my own creation. Please, follow me, I keep my most potent potions in the back."_

_Vernon followed the foul man into a dimly lit back room, where the shopkeeper's knarled hands reached for a dark bottle alone on a shelf. Cradling it lovingly, he turned to his customer._

"_This poison is to be ingested, and it cannot be traced once it enters the body," he explained. "It will linger in the body for a few days to familiarised itself with the victim's body, as it were. First, it will hit the body hard, almost completely destroying the natural defences. Then, slowly, it will begin to kill the body. Shutting it down, muscle by muscle, organ by organ, until there is nothing left. A most torturous death, I'm sure you'll agree. Especially as the victim will not feel ill at first. Knowing you are dying, but not feeling it is a terrible thing. Your nephew would be dead within two years. Even better, there is no cure."_

_It was perfect._

"_How much?" Vernon asked._

"_It is quite expensive," the shopkeeper admitted. "But well worth the cost. Five hundred pounds."_

_Vernon didn't bat an eyelid._

"_I'll take it."_

//END FLASHBACK//

"I slipped it into the boy's soup on Saturday when you went to call him inside," Vernon concluded. "Isn't it excellent? In two years he'll be dead, and we can forget all about him!"

It was in that moment that Petunia realised that the man she'd fallen in love with, whom she'd married, and who had fathered her child, was gone. In his place was a madman who felt no remorse over what he'd done.

"You're a murderer Vernon!" she shrieked. "How could you do something this cruel? You've turned into a monster!"

"Me, a monster?" Vernon snarled. "The boy's a freak! How can you side wit him? You should be glad I've found a way to get rid of him!"

"He's my nephew, Vernon!" Petunia began to cry. "It took me a long time to realise it, but his magic is a gift, not an abnormality. It makes him special. Just like it made Lily special. Last year, when Harry said Voldemort was back, I realised that I still love her. I felt such a wave of grief as I realised that he's the only thing left of her. We were close as children, then she discovered magic and I became jealous. She didn't deserve to die, and neither does Harry. How could you do this after everything he's done?"

"What do you mean, 'what he's done'?" Vernon bellowed.

"He's helped a lot around the house," Dudley's voice was quiet. "And he saved my life last year. I would have lost my soul if it weren't for him. After everything I did to him, he saved me. If I were him, I would've left me behind, but he didn't. Mum's right, Harry doesn't deserve to die."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Vernon snarled.

"I want you to pack a bag. You are to be out of this house in half an hour and you are never to return to it," Petunia commanded firmly.

"What?" Vernon was shocked. "You can't throw me out of my own house!"

"Actually, my parents left the house to me. Your name isn't on any of the paperwork," Petunia informed him. "So I can throw you out."

With an inhuman growl, Vernon lunged across the table at his wife, but Dudley with his boxing, was stronger than his father. Grabbing the fat, purple faced man, he hauled him out of the kitchen, and threw him out of the front door, locking it behind him.

Vernon, once he had regained his footing, spent the next hour yelling at the door, demanding to be let back in. When he received no response, and had bellowed himself hoarse, he stomped down the street to find somewhere to stay.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dudley comforted his sobbing mother.

A/N: Well? What did you all think? Please review! I'd really like your thoughts!

Len


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything from the Harry Potter series.

A/N: Hey! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated this in ages, I've been kind of concentrating on Love of Sanity, and trying to get the fourteenth chapter of Dragon Flame out. I'm glad that people like this, and thank you for the reviews! Well, here it is! Chapter two…

**Ch. 2.**

Petunia and Dudley spent the next three days at the hospital, only leaving when visiting hours were over. They sat at Harry's bedside, barley speaking, just looking at the young boy in the bed. When they were at home, they sorted out the guest bedroom, moving Harry's belongings out of the smallest room, and arranging them neatly around. Dudley found several loose photographs in the bottom of Harry's trunk, and put them in frames on the wall.

On the second day of their vigil, they arrived home to find Marge on the doorstep. Reluctantly, they let her in. The large woman, with her favourite dog, Ripper, seated herself in the lounge. Petunia fetched a pot of tea, and they began to talk.

"Vernon's in such a state, Petunia," Marge boomed. "He turned up, out of the blue, saying that you'd left him. He told me what happened, and I think that this has been one big misunderstanding."

"It's no misunderstanding, Marge," Petunia said strongly. "Vernon tried to kill Harry. I refuse to live with a murderer."

"Nonsense!" Marge laughed. "He simply tried to show the boy some discipline! And we all know that he needs it!"

"No, he doesn't!" Petunia snapped. "Harry has never done anything to prove that he needs discipline. He's always been as good as gold! And I wouldn't call what Vernon did discipline, anyway!"

"Of course it was discipline!" Marge had stopped laughing now. "That boy's always been trouble. All to do with the parents, of course. He needs a bit of a slap around to keep him in line! Bring him here! I'll show you how to deal with him! Where is he?"

"He's in the hospital, in a coma, thanks to Vernon," Petunia's voice was like steel. "He's dying, and no-one can do anything about it."

"I think you should leave now," Dudley spoke up for the first time. Marge hadn't even noticed him in the corner.

"Dudders!" she smiled. "How are you, my boy? Still boxing? What a champ!"

"I'll show you to the door," Dudley walked out of the room, waiting in the hallway.

"Dudders, I'm not leaving! I'm trying to sort out this argument your parents have had over that runt!" Marge followed him. "Surely you see my point in that the boy needs discipline?"

Dudley opened the door and pushed Marge-Ripper and all- outside.

"Harry Potter saved my life last summer," he said. "He's the greatest cousin I could wish for. I'm sorry that I've been horrible to him all these years. I should have treated him like a brother. And my name is Dudley."

The door slammed in the flabbergasted Marge's face.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

As she sat by Harry's bed, Petunia did a lot of thinking. When her parents had died, half of their money had gone to Petunia, half to Lily. Including the sale of their car, Petunia had ended up with quite a bit of savings. She had been lucky as a child, her father had a good job, and they'd had quite a bit of money. The house she lived in, willed to her by her parents, had been bought outright. There was no mortgage, so she only had to pay bills and buy food and clothing.

She knew that Harry would likely be taken back to school in September, awake or not, and that left herself and Dudley in the house. Her son had decided not to go back to college this year, but to take a year to decide what to do with himself in the future. He would probably leave home within the year, leaving her alone.

The house was far too big for her alone, and she decided that once Dudley moved out, she would sell it and move into a smaller place. She could afford to live on her savings for a while, but that option didn't appeal to her. She considered going back to her old job of transcribing college and university tapes for hearing-impaired students. She'd done that when she was pregnant with Dudley, and had quite enjoyed it. It could be done in the comfort of her own home, she could pick her hours, and it was a decent wage. Yes, she decided, she would do that.

She would also divorce Vernon.

Petunia was brought out of her thoughts by a soft groan from the bed. Immediately, she and Dudley leaned over Harry. It was clear that he was waking up. His long black lashes fluttered, and his moved gently from side to side. Softly, emerald green eyes opened, and stared blearily up at them.

"Get a nurse," Petunia said to Dudley, who went straight over to the nurse's station. Picking up the round glasses off the table, Petunia handed them to her nephew.

Pushing his glasses onto his nose, Harry looked around. He realised that he was in a hospital. Spying his aunt, he stared at her. Why would she be here?

A nurse bustled over and began to fuss over him, checking his pulse, listening to his chest, and asking him how he felt.

"A bit tired and weak," he admitted.

"That's normal for someone who's been in a coma, just get some rest and it should go away," the young woman smiled. "I'll leave you with your family now."

"I know it's normal," Harry whispered. "It's not like I haven't been in a coma before."

"When?" Dudley's voice startled him.

"What?"

"When have you been in a coma?" the blond boy asked.

"At school," Harry answered, confused at this show of interest. "I end up in the hospital wing every year. Stuff always seems to happen to me."

He studied his relatives' faces.

"What happened? Why am I here?" he asked.

"Oh Harry I'm so sorry!" Petunia bent over in tears. "I've been so horrible to you all these years! I shouldn't have been! I can't believe that it took something so horrible to make me see the error of my ways! Please forgive me!"

"And me," Dudley spoke before Harry could react. "You saved me life last year, and I never thanked you. I suppose I was still in shock. I've been meaning to apologise all summer and I never got a chance."

"What's going on?" Harry demanded.

"Three-three days ago, you col-collapsed," Petunia stuttered. "I-I brought you to the hospital, and the doctors said-said that you're dy-dying!"

"Oh," Harry couldn't think of anything to say. "What's wrong with me?"

"They didn't know," Dudley replied. "But that night, it was revealed that Dad poisoned you. He found some shop, and the wizard who owned it sold him a poison he'd created. I'm sorry, Harry, but there's no cure."

The raven boy was silent.

"Harry? Say something!" Petunia was frightened by the blank look on her nephew's face.

"What am I supposed to say?" Harry's voice was harsh. "I knew that I was probably going to die in the next few years, but I thought Voldemort was going to kill me, not my own uncle!"

He sighed, calming himself. He didn't want to strain himself until he knew more.

"How long have I got?" he asked.

"Just under two years," Petunia's voice was quiet.

"What does this poison do?"

"It shuts the body down slowly," his aunt replied. "It's destroyed your immune system, and is going to start attacking everything else. It was the blow that caused your coma."

Harry digested this.

"It won't affect your day-to-day life directly at first," Petunia continued. "But if you over-exert yourself, you'll feel tired. And you'll grow weaker over time."

"Great," Harry muttered. "I still want to go to school. This poison won't stop me living my life. I have a job to do. Besides, Professor Dumbledore will find a cure. I know it."

"I don't know, Harry…"

"He will!" Harry snapped, cutting across Petunia's doubt. "He's the greatest wizard alive. He'll do something to fix this."

A/N: Well, I hope that you liked this! Please review! I'd like to know your thoughts!

Love,

Len


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything from Harry Potter. They all belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: Hey again! Sorry for not updating for a while, I've been busy, and I'm trying to update all of my fics equally. Well, I'm really glad that this is going down ok. I thought that it might be a bit risky, what with Harry being ill during it, and thought people might hate it. My fears, however, have been silenced. Thanks to all for the reviews!

On with the show!

**Ch. 3.**

Harry was released from hospital four days after he woke up. The doctors had done as many tests as they could think of, but none unveiled the problem for the 'mystery illness'. Harry felt like a pincushion, and argued forcibly with the medical staff to be discharged. The doctors eventually reluctantly agreed-they had wanted to keep him in for observation. Though before allowing him home, they had provided him with crutches and a wheelchair, with strict instructions to use them.

Stepping into the living room of number four, Harry sank into an armchair with a sigh.

"I hate hospitals," he muttered.

"I'm not surprised, if you end up in one every year!" Dudley grinned.

"Is there anything you want, Harry?" Petunia asked. "I'm about to go and make some tea, if you'd like some?"

"Could I have a glass of water, please?" Harry paused, then added. "I should write to Dumbledore, as well. He needs to know what's happened."

"Of course," Petunia smiled. "You stay there, though. Dudley will go and get your writing things for you."

"Oh no," Harry protested. "You don't need to, I'll get them myself."

"Don't worry about it," Dudley was already halfway out the door. "I don't mind."

Harry sighed again. He hoped that they weren't going to treat him like an invalid until he went back to school. He felt fine. He wanted to live his life while he still could, not spend his days wrapped in cotton wool.

Dudley soon reappeared with parchment, ink and a quill, which he placed on the table next to Harry's chair, pulling the fragile wooden piece round until it was in front of his cousin.

"Thanks," Harry leaned forward and opened the inkpot, dipping his quill in.

A moment later Petunia came in. She set his drink on the table, along with a dark bottle.

"This is the bottle the poison came in," she explained in response to Harry's questioning look. "I thought you might need it to find a cure."

"Thank you," Harry smiled softly, glad that his aunt was trying to help. Their relationship was still fledgling, but he firmly believed that she cared.

The letter turned out to be quite long, as Harry tried to explain everything in as much detail as possible. Finally, he parcelled the bottle, attached the letter and called Hedwig downstairs. Aunt Petunia had been looking after her, leaving the window open for her to go hunting and filling her water dish, so the owl was fit for the journey.

Tying the parcel to her leg, Harry petted her feathers as she hooted softly at him.

"Hey girl," he whispered. "I'm glad to see you too. I'm sorry to send you off so soon, but this is really important. Can you get this to Dumbledore as soon as possible please?"

Hedwig hooted in agreement and took off through the open window. Harry leaned back in his chair, suddenly feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. Dumbledore would know soon, and then everything would be fixed. He'd be fine.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and Harry had a nice time just spending time with his relatives. They'd spent the past three days in hospital with him, but it was different now. There, doctors and nurses, checking his vitals, performing tests, and giving the results of tests, had constantly interrupted them. It had been exhausting in itself, and Harry spent a good portion of his quality family time asleep. Here, Harry could just sit and talk with them, eat a decent meal, and watch television with them. It was relaxing, and Harry was shocked at how late it was before he even thought of going to bed.

"I'm going to go to bed," he announced standing up. "It's been a long day."

"We'll come up with you," Petunia smiled. "We had a bit of a shuffle around while you were in hospital. Besides, it's probably time we went to bed too."

"Yeah," Dudley yawned.

Harry followed Petunia up the stairs, Dudley trailing behind, and headed for the smallest bedroom.

"Harry, you're going to the wrong room," Petunia said. "This is your room."

Harry frowned as she opened the door to the spare room, going over to see what she was talking about. Gasping, Harry stepped inside.

His trunk was positioned at the end of the large, comfortable bed and photographs of him and his friends decorated the pale green walls. The desk displayed his writing things, and his schoolbooks were arranged on the small bookcase next to it. Hedwig's cage stood on a table next to the window, door open and water dish full. Walking over to the photographs on the back wall, Harry stared at them.

"I tried to arrange them in age order," Dudley shrugged. "I had to guess though, I hope I got it right, you looked older in some of them."

"You did, don't worry." Harry smiled. He pointed to the first. "This was taken outside Hogwarts on the last day of summer term."

He watched the three of them laugh for a moment before moving on.

"This one," he pointed to the next, where he and his friends sat at the table in the Great Hall. "Was taken at the feast celebrating the Chamber of Secrets closing, just after Hermione was unpetrified in second year."

"This was third year, at the party after my team won the Quidditch cup," Harry pointed at himself, Ron and Hermione situated around the Quidditch cup, Harry holding it proudly.

"This one," he said to his family, who were now standing behind him. "Was fourth year. This was Christmas Day. We'd stayed at school for the ball. Ron and Hermione had a massive argument a couple of days before this, but they made up just for Christmas Day."

The three of them stared at the Gryffindors grouped in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, playing snap and laughing at some private joke. Harry moved quietly to the last photo and regarded it sadly.

"This was last year," he whispered. "Again, Christmas Day. This is the only photo Colin Creevey didn't take. He's a bit of a stalker, but a good kid basically. I don't mind him taking photos every now and again, as long as I get some of them.

"Anyway, Ginny Weasley took this. It's my favourite. It was taken at my godfather's house-I never told you he was innocent, did I? He never killed those people. He was killed at the end of last year, and that Christmas was one of the last times I saw him. This photo doesn't sadden me too much, though. I won't let it. I had fun, and that's a happy memory."

They stood quietly, looking at the three teens sitting in front of a lavish tree. Hermione was in the middle, Ron and Harry on either side of her, leaning their heads on her shoulders. They looked happy and smiled at the camera widely, completely at ease with each other.

After a moment, Petunia ran her hand through Harry's thick black hair.

"You're so brave Harry," she whispered. "I'm proud to call you my nephew. You truly are special."

"Thank you," Harry replied. "And thank you both for the room. It's really nice."

"You deserve it," Dudley patted him on the shoulder. "Night."

"G'night Dud," Harry smiled.

"Goodnight darling," Petunia kissed her son on the forehead and then did the same to Harry. "Goodnight sweet, sleep well."

"Night," Harry answered, dazed by the simple gesture of affection.

Number four was really starting to feel like home.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

Harry slept late the next morning and woke up feeling refreshed. After showering, he headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Morning," he greeted as he entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harry," Petunia turned from the stove. "Where're your crutches?"

"Didn't feel like using them," Harry shrugged. "I'm not tired, and I'm not weak yet. I don't need them."

"But if you don't use them, you will get weaker faster," his aunt argued. "You heard the doctor yesterday. Using the crutches means you're using more muscles, and giving yourself more. That way, certain muscles won't wear out too fast. You're saving your body."

"Look," Harry tried to make her see it his way. "I want to live my life without too much hassle. I just want to live while I can. Don't you understand? I need to be a little bit independent. I can't live like the invalid I'll soon be. Not yet."

Petunia studied his earnest face, and sighed. She could see so much of Lily in him. He wasn't going to back down.

"Fine," she smiled. "I can see you're as stubborn as your mother. You can choose whether or not to use your crutches when you're in the house, but when we go out, you use them or your wheelchair, depending on where we're going."

"I'm like my mum?" Harry asked, interested by his aunt's comparison between him and her sister.

"Yes," Petunia's smile turned soft. "It's nice to see you've inherited her spark. Shows she's not really gone. She's here in you. It makes me miss her less and remember her more."

Harry grinned in reply, and tucked into his breakfast with vigour. He spent the rest of the day in the conservatory with his aunt and cousin, talking about his school years, and what Petunia could remember of his parents.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

The next morning after breakfast, Petunia announced that they were going shopping.

"I cannot believe that I let you run around in those dreadful hand me downs all these years," she sounded disgusted with herself. "We are going to get you some things that fit. You're going to need your wheelchair for moving between shops, no arguments."

Harry dutifully climbed into the chair, feeling resentful that he could no longer trust himself to spend a day shopping without collapsing. Eventually, though, he felt grateful to it and Dudley, who was pushing him, as he began feeling tired halfway through the afternoon. It turned out that buying clothes was far more exhausting than he had thought.

Returning to Privet Drive, Harry had gone straight to his room and found both Hedwig and Pig in his room. Relieving both owls of their letters, he sat at his desk to read them. Opening Dumbledore's first, he scanned the loopy script.

_Harry,_

_I am terribly sorry to hear this news. I never thought that your uncle would stoop to these lows. If you wish, you are perfectly within your rights to prosecute him in the Wizarding system. I shall, however, leave this decision to you._

_I feel awful for allowing you to go back there, and hope that you accept my humblest apologies. _

_I am glad to hear that you are now on better terms with your aunt and cousin. Such a joyous thing to come out of tragedy._

_Professor Snape is currently testing the residues left in the bottle in an attempt to discover the exact formula of the poison, and will be working as fast he can on a cure. I understand that the owner of the shop stated that there was no cure, but as it was a poison of his own creation he could not be sure. Another potions master could potentially find a weakness he had not thought of. This is what Professor Snape is attempting to accomplish._

_Madam Pomfrey will also be needing to run frequent checks and tests, both to help Professor Snape and to monitor your progress. I know that this is probably going to be upsetting for you, but I hope that you see it is necessary. _

_I advise you to do your school shopping soon, before Diagon Alley becomes crowed, and therefore include your OWL results (well done!) and your school list._

_Also, I would like to invite your aunt and cousin to stay at Hogwarts for the year. No doubt they will want to keep an eye on you, and be kept up to date on the status of the cure. I believe that your newfound relationship would benefit from this too._

_Once again, I am truly sorry, Harry._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

Putting the letter aside, Harry picked up Ron's. He was too tired to go downstairs to relay the invitation, and he didn't particularly care about his exam results just now. Unfolding the parchment, Harry struggled to read the familiar scrawl of his best friend.

_Hey Harry!_

_You ok? The muggles treating you fine? Just asking because I haven't heard from you for a few days._

_We're all at the Burrow this year. Something about you-know-where maybe not being safe any more._

_Hermione's coming to stay just after your birthday, and I asked Mum about you, and she said Dumbledore firecalled her last night to say you're staying with your relatives. Do you know what that's about?_

_Anyway, I'm sure we'll see each other at some point, maybe at Diagon Alley?_

_Write soon, mate!_

_Ron._

Sighing, Harry pulled a piece of parchment towards him and wrote his reply.

_Ron,_

_Thanks for your letter._

_My aunt and cousin are treating me fine, but I have some bad news._

_My uncle did something to me that was really bad. He poisoned me with something he bought from some apothecary and the shop owner said there was no cure. Of course Dumbledore has someone working on a cure, but who knows? Right now, there's a very good chance I'll be dead in two years or less._

_Aunt Petunia has thrown Vernon out and is going to divorce him. She and Dudley moved all my stuff into the spare room while I was in hospital, and we're trying to build a relationship. That's why I'm staying here. I think they're really sorry for everything in the past, and I've forgiven them._

_They might be coming to Hogwarts in September, Dumbledore invited them, so you can probably meet them properly then._

_I don't think I'll see you at Diagon, sorry. I'm going a bit earlier than everyone else so it won't be too crowded. I get tired really easily. I've already got my list so I'll probably be going in the next few days._

_Please, if you see Hermione before I get a chance to write to her, break it to her gently. She has a right to know as soon as possible, and I might not be able to write to her in the next couple of days. I'm signing off now, I've had a busy day and feel like I could sleep for a week._

_I'll see you at school._

_Harry._

Tying the letter to Pig's leg, Harry sent the hyperactive owl on his way, and flopped onto his bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

When Dudley came to fetch him for dinner, he simply smiled, pulled off his cousin's shoes and tucked the blanket securely around him.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

It was almost noon when Harry woke up, and after a quick freshen up in the bathroom, he dressed in clean clothes, noticing Hedwig had gone as he grabbed his crutches. Assuming that she'd simply left to go hunting during the night, he made his way slowly downstairs.

Collapsing into an armchair in the lounge, he allowed his relatives to fuss over him, too weak to protest.

"I should have realised that yesterday would be too much," Petunia snapped at herself. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's ok," he offered a small smile.

Later in the afternoon, he felt stronger, and told his relatives of Dumbledore's offer, which they decided to accept. That evening, when Hedwig returned, Petunia wrote a note to Dumbledore, informing him of their decision.

Harry went to bed early, hoping that he would feel better in the morning.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

In the early afternoon, the doorbell rang, and Harry opened it on his way back from the bathroom to find the Weasley's and Hermione on the doorstep.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so sorry! Your uncle will pay for this I swear."

"Good to see you too," Harry grinned. "Though, I do need to breathe, Hermione."

The girl stepped back, blushing, and Ron shook Harry's hand. The two Gryffindors stepped into the hall as Harry greeted the others.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, once he'd escaped Mrs. Weasley's crushing hug.

"They're here for your birthday party," Petunia smiled from the living room.

"What?" Harry gasped.

"You didn't think we'd ignore it this year, did you?" Dudley smirked.

"I sent invitations to Ron and Hermione yesterday while you were asleep," Petunia explained.

"So that's where she went…" Harry mused about his owl.

Herding the Weasleys into the living room, Harry sat on the couch between his friends, laughing and joking just like the old times.

As he lay in bed that night, Harry decided that it was his best birthday ever.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM

Two days later, Harry took his relatives to Diagon alley to pick up his school supplies. He'd been ecstatic to receive an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and to get E's in all but Divination (D), Astronomy (A-the grade bands had to be moved up because of the disturbance during the exam), and History of Magic (D). He'd been even more pleased to find out that Snape was allowing E grade students into his class. Harry may dislike the man, but he was finding him a cure, and if he succeeded, Harry would still want to be an auror.

They had fun while shopping, and Dudley even bought a Quidditch book in order to get fully to grips with Harry's favourite sport. His family was trying, and Harry felt really grateful for them.

Before he knew it, all three of them had packed, and it was the night before they left for Hogwarts.

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review!

Love,

Len


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter and make no money from this story.

A/N: Hey! Well, with my parents away and only working part time, I'm getting loads of time to update! I'm sorry that it's taken so long for me to do this one!

TO ALL REVIEWERS: If anyone is aware of the situation with "A Draco and Harry Story", a sudden thought occurred to me. Perhaps by commenting on this atrocity, we are only spurring this sad individual on. We are giving far too much attention to him/her, and they are enjoying the attention. If we leave alone for a couple of days, maybe they will desist, believing themselves rightfully forgotten. We should once again appeal to the site managers, and make sure that no unwitting readers stray across this fic, like it, and believe it to be original. This is easy to do, by PMing them and pointing them in the lovely KDB's direction.

Anyway, enough said, I hope that you like this! Thanks for the reviews!

**Ch. 4.**

Harry climbed into the taxi early in the morning of September the first. Dumbledore had sent a letter a few days ago, asking Harry and his relatives to be at the train station no later than ten thirty, so that they could get a carriage without having to manoeuvre through the crowded platform. Propping his crutches up next him, Harry smiled at Petunia as she slid in next to him, Dudley taking the front seat.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the local train station. Paying the fair and unloading the luggage, they made their way through the busy station to the train to King's Cross. The train was filled with commuters, but one kind gentleman stood up and offered Harry his seat, seeing the boy leaning on his crutches and struggling to keep his balance. Harry gratefully accepted the seat. After a lengthy discussion with Petunia, he'd agreed to use his crutches today, as long journeys could be tiring. Also, Harry knew that school was always a bit tiring in the first couple of days while he got used to being back, so he'd decided to use his crutches for the first week or so. Normally, he didn't think he would need them for a while, but it couldn't hurt for a few days.

Arriving at King's Cross, Dudley piled their luggage, and Hedwig's securely locked cage onto a trolley, and followed Harry to Platforms nine and ten. Carefully, Harry leaned against the barrier, one of his crutches positioned ready to catch him if he lost his balance, and his relatives copied him, the three of them sliding through unnoticed by the muggles passing by.

"Oh my!" Petunia breathed, spotting the Hogwarts Express.

"Wicked!" Dudley exclaimed, his eyes wide. "I've always wanted to ride a steam train!"

"Now's your chance," Harry grinned. "Welcome to Platform Nine and Three Quarters!"

The three of them made their way to the train, and stepped on board. As they were about to settle in a compartment near the back, Professor Flitwick stepped in.

"Hello, hello!" he called cheerfully. "Young man, let me help you with that."

Dudley, who was about to lift Harry's trunk into the luggage rack, gave the tiny man a quizzical glance but stepped back as the luggage was neatly levitated into place.

"Thanks," he nodded.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Harry, who was already sitting, remembered his manners. "Aunt Petunia, Dudley, this is Professor Flitwick, my Charms teacher."

"A pleasure," Flitwick smiled. "Professor Dumbledore sent me to inform you of the arrangements once we arrive at the school. He has requested that you remain in the compartment until the other students are in the carriages. Then, I will come and escort you to your own carriage. Mrs. Dursley, rooms have been set up for you, and you have a place setting at the head table. Mr. Dursley, the headmaster wishes for you to stay in Mr. Potter's dorm and eat his table. That way, you will be able to interact with people of your age.

"Also, Professor Dumbledore welcomes you to roam the school during the day. You may visit classes and the library, take walks outside, but he warns you to be careful until you know your way around. The school moves a lot, and there are certain places that only appear at certain times. Also, beware walking around at night; it's not always the best idea, especially now that we are at war.

"Now, Hogwarts has muggle repelling charms on it, to avoid our discovery. If I may, I must perform an exclusion charm on you both, so that it will not affect you, and you can see what there is to see."

Both Dursley's agreed, and soon the charm was completed.

"If you would excuse me," Flitwick bowed his head. "I will take my leave. The driver is an old friend of mine, and I think I shall visit with him. In order to give you some privacy, I'll create a blind and a lock for the door, so no one can stumble upon you. See you when we arrive!"

With that, the tiny man left, conjuring a blind and a lock as he went.

"Well, he was jolly," Dudley commented, pulling the blind down and drawing the bolt across before sitting down.

"He's always like that," Harry replied.

"What did he mean, 'the school moves a lot'?" Petunia asked, curiously.

"Oh, because it's a magical building, things happen. Staircases move, hallways come and go, suits of armour walk about, doors pretend to be walls, walls pretend to be doors, some doors have to be tickled in the right place to be opened, there are trick steps, things like that," Harry replied. "You'll get used to it. It's quite helpful, actually. Like last year, I had Potions in the dungeons right after Divination in the top tower on a Wednesday. There's a five minute break for you to get between classes, but that wasn't enough time. Luckily, there's a staircase one floor down from Divination that leads to the dungeons, that appears between six a.m. and six p.m. on Wednesdays, and it's just like one normal sized staircase. It saved me hundreds of detentions, I can tell you!"

They sat for a while, watching as the platform filled up with people. Soon, as it grew time for the train to leave, people began rushing past their door, occasionally trying the handle. At exactly eleven fifteen, the train slowly pulled out, wizards and witches waving at their children as the windows rushed past.

The small family sat for a while, quietly comfortable in each other's company. Harry busied himself reading his new Defense book, wondering about this year's teacher, while Dudley read his Quidditch book, and Petunia admired the scenery. At lunch time, they bought some pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs off the trolley, and ate them, Harry patiently explaining to Dudley the technique behind the Wronski Feint, and why it was so effective against the opposition.

A short while later, Harry lay down on the seat to have a short nap to keep his strength up, and Petunia and Dudley went back to quietly sitting, not having the heart to wake Harry after two hours as he'd asked them to. It was only as they pulled into Hogsmeade that Harry woke up, the change in the train's movement jarring him. After rolling his eyes at his relatives' innocent 'we're sorry' faces, he stood, stretched and pulled his robes over his t-shirt and jeans.

They watched the students hurry to the carriages in the lamp light, and listened to Hagrid calling to the first years. Soon, all was quiet and they opened the door to find Flitwick walking towards them.

"Off we go then!" he led them off the train, to the last carriage, waiting patiently as the others were halfway back to school now.

Petunia climbed in, then Dudley turned to help Harry, who was carefully not looking at the Thestral in front. The blond helped Harry in, then stood back for Flitwick to enter, before stepping in. The door shut and the carriage lurched and rumbled up the path.

Pulling up outside Hogwarts, Flitwick hopped out, and with a jaunty salute, left them to take his place at the head table. Dudley swung himself down, before helping his mother and cousin out.

Harry smiled happily as Petunia and Dudley stared up at the castle in awe, before leading them inside to the Great Hall. The magnificent oak doors swung open before them, and hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to stare.

"Petunia!" Dumbledore greeted from the top table. "It's wonderful to see you again! You were so young last time I saw you, waiting for Lily to arrive home. Come, take your place here."

Petunia smiled at the boys, and left them, walking up the centre aisle proudly.

"That way," Harry nodded at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the stares and whispers.

"Why are they staring at us?" Dudley whispered.

"They're wondering who you are, and why I'm on crutches," Harry replied just as quietly, as they walked towards Ron and Hermione, who'd stood up to greet them.

"Harry! I'm so glad to see you!" Hermione engulfed him in a hug. "We missed you on the train. It just wasn't the same without you. We figured the locked carriage was yours."

She released him, and Harry smiled.

"Yeah, we travelled together. Maybe on the way home, you can sit with us," Harry replied. "I think Dud and Aunt Petunia were a bit nervous."

"Hey!" Dudley was mock insulted. "We could have handled it!"

He reached to shake Hermione's hand as Harry greeted Ron.

"Hey mate, it's good to be back," Harry smiled.

"Yep, with a new addition to our trio!" Ron replied.

The four of them sat down, and watched the Sorting. There were lots of new students this year, and it took a while. Dumbledore gave the usual announcements and the feast began. Harry ate as much as he could, which wasn't much. He wasn't hungry, and he was starting to feel tired again. Hating to ruin desert, he turned to Dudley.

"I'm sorry, but I'm tired," he whispered. "Can we go?"

"Yeah," Dudley nodded.

"Ron, what's the password?" Harry asked. "We're going to bed."

"Whomping Willow, can you believe?" Ron replied.

"I kind of can," Harry grinned, standing up, Dudley beside him.

The two boys waved to Petunia, who smiled and waved, before setting off for Gryffindor Tower. By the time they reached the Fat Lady, Dudley was panting slightly.

"I thought my boxing got me in better shape, but I must have been wrong!" he gasped. "No wonder you've always been in such good shape!"

Harry laughed.

"You'll get used to it," he turned to the portrait. "Whomping Willow."

The Fat Lady swung forward, and Harry climbed through the hole, his cousin following.

"Well, this is the Gryffindor Common Room," Harry led the blond through it. "That's the girl's dorm, I wouldn't advise trying to get up there, though. I laughed my head off when Ron tried it. Here's the boys'."

They climbed up to the sixth year dorm, finding that a bed had been added for Dudley next to Harry's, along with his own chest of drawers.

"I'm on this side of you, Neville's on the other," Harry pulled pyjamas out of his trunk. "You can have a competition. See who snores louder!"

"Ha, ha," Dudley replied dryly.

Soon, they were ready for bed, and Harry fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A/N: I hope that you liked this one! Sorry it's a bit short. Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Hey! Well, here's the next chapter! I hope that you like it! I'm sorry about the wait, I've been concentrating on other stuff. I'm in a bit of a writing mood at the moment, so expect quite a few updates of various things!

On with the show!

**Ch. 5.**

The next morning, Harry woke to Dudley shaking him gently.

"Hey, if you want a shower before breakfast, you'll have to get up now," the blond whispered. "Or I could wake you later if not."

"It's ok, I'll get up, thanks," Harry rolled over slowly.

A quick shower later, and Harry was dressed and ready to go. Leaning on his crutches for support, he led his cousin down to the Great Hall. They'd just filled their plates when Ron and Hermione joined them.

"Morning!" Ron cheerfully pulled a plate of sausage towards him, rolling several onto his own plate, eyes devouring them.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Fine, thanks. You?" Harry accepted his timetable from McGonagall.

"I'm alright, thank you," the girl replied, watching Ron in vague disgust as he inhaled the pile of food on his plate.

They spent the next few minutes eating in silence, with the minor exception of Ron's chewing, before the post arrived. Hedwig fluttered down in front of Harry, and he stroked her feathers for a moment, before removing the letter and pushing his plate towards her.

Reading the note as Hedwig helped herself to his bacon, he felt a surge of relief. Handing the parchment to Dudley, he turned to the girl opposite him.

"Hermione, Madam Pomfrey wants me in the Hospital Wing during first period," he gained her attention. "Please may I borrow your notes later?"

"Of course, Harry!" she smiled. "I'll duplicate them, so you don't have to spend time copying them out."

"Thanks Hermione!" the raven boy smiled.

Finishing their food, the cousins stood and made their way up to Petunia at the staff table.

"Hello dears," she smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

"Brilliantly," Dudley smiled.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry nodded. "I've an appointment in the infirmary in five minutes. Do you want to come?"

"Of course!" the woman stood. Let's go."

They arrived in the Hospital Wing just after Madam Pomfrey, who left the Great Hall slightly before them.

"Good morning, Harry," she smiled. "Please come and lie on this bed for me."

Harry did as asked, leaning his crutches against the bedside table. Madam Pomfrey nodded to Dudley and Petunia, who sat in chairs next to Harry's bed, before addressing the young wizard.

"I don't know if anyone's told you, Harry," she began. "But Professor Snape has managed to complete the breakdown of ingredients from the residue left in the bottle, however it could take some time for him to work out the actual composition of the poison. He has asked for some samples of your blood to examine."

"But Vernon said the poison was untraceable!" Petunia interjected. "He'll be wasting time by checking Harry's blood!"

"Perhaps," Pomfrey conceeded. "But Professor Snape is very gifted. He is the youngest Potions Master ever to have lived, and may be able to spot something the potion-maker overlooked."

"Well, I suppose he knows best..." Petunia still didn't seem very convinced.

"I won't take the samples just yet, Harry," the mediwitch smiled at the wizard. "I'd like to run some diagnostic scans first, ok?"

Harry nodded and relaxed into the bed as she began to wave her wand in a complicated pattern, muttering furiously, and occasionally touching her wand to a parchment floating beside her. Her frown became more pronounced as the minutes wore on, and Harry began to worry. Was the poison working faster than anticipated? Would he die sooner? Half an hour later, she lowered her wand.

"Well, those're the scans over with," the stern woman's voice was soft. "I'm afraid it doesn't look very good at the moment. Your immune system is, as the muggles said, almost completely destroyed. I do have potions that could help to rectify that, but I'm rather wary of prescribing anything, as we don't know whether it will react badly with the poison. For now, you'll just have to be very careful. Eat healthy food, and plenty of it. No flying, or other strenuous activities. Wrap up warm when it's chilly. Try not to come into close contact to people who are ill, it will be very difficult for you to shake off even a minor cold. Your body doesn't have the strength to fight it.

"Other than that, I've not found anything overly worrying. I will be asking to see you regularly though, just to keep an eye on you. If you feel any different, or if anything seems wrong, come to me immediately."

"I promise," Harry said.

"Well, I think it's time we take those blood samples," Pomfrey picked up a thin tube. "Unfortunately, this process is rather like the muggle one, though rather less painful. I'll just clean everything off..."

Touching her wand to the inside of Harry's left elbow, Pomfrey whispered an cleansing spell, sanitising the area. Repeating the process on the tube, she looked back into the boy's emerald eyes.

"I'm going to place a numbing spell on your arm, then I'm going to use a spell especially designed to create a hole for the tube," she told him. "Once that's done, I'll insert the tube and fill several phials. I'll probably take around a pint of blood, because Professor Snape needs plenty of samples, and I would like one to examine also. After that, I'll heal the cut, and give you a blood replenishing potion. You should be ready to go a few minutes after that."

"Ok," Harry nodded, and turned away as he felt his arm go numb. Just because he couldn't feel it, didn't mean he wanted to see it.

Dudley caught his eye and gave him a smile. Petunia, on the other hand, was carefully looking at her lap.

"There," Pomfrey captured Harry's attention. "It should only take a few minutes."

Harry looked down to see the tube firmly implanted in his elbow, bright red liquid pouring down it into a phial floating underneath. Several other phials were lined up next to it, waiting to be filled. Laying his head back down, Harry sighed. He hated this. He hoped Professor Snape could find an antidote soon. He didn't want to waste away, unable to do the things he loved.

The time passed quickly, and soon the phials were filled and sealed. Pomfrey removed the tube, catching a trickle of blood with a tissue. Putting the tube on a tray floating next to her, the mediwitch picked up her wand and healed the small cut.

"Drink this, try not to sit up too much," Pomfrey advised as she handed him the potion, before bustling off to store the samples.

Harry accepted the shimmering green potion, and downed it in one gulp. Laying back, he closed his eyes and waited for it to take affect.

"You alright, Harry?" Dudley asked.

"Yeah, I just wish this wasn't happening," the raven boy muttered. "There are so many things I love doing, or would like to do before I die, but I can't do them now. Not unless a cure is found."

"It will be ok Harry," Petunia soothed. "You will be cured. You said yourself that Albus Dumbledore is a great wizard, and his staff appear to be just as good. I'm sure something can be done."

"You're right," Harry sighed. "It's just frustrating."

"We understand."

A few silent minutes later, Madam Pomfrey reappeared, coming straight over to Harry and taking a good look at him. A bit pale, but the potion would soon rectify that.

"You can go now, Harry," she smiled. "Remember to come to me if you feel any worse. Second period started ten minutes ago, so if Professor Snape says anything, just tell him we overran. He knows that you're here."

"Thanks," Harry sat up carefully and took hold of his crutches, standing up and leading his relatives out of the door.

Outside, he turned to Petunia and Dudley.

"What were you thinking of doing today?" he asked them.

"Well, I was wondering if I could accompany you to class?" Petunia asked tentatively. "I always wondered what it was like for Lily, and now you, to learn magic. I'd like to know more about it."

"You know me, Har," Dudley grinned. "You saved my life with magic. I ought to find out more about it."

"Well, if you're sure, Potions is down in the dungeons," Harry turned around. "This is the fastest route from here. I warn you, it doesn't always smell nice, is often stuffy, and Professor Snape hates me."

"I'm sure he doesn't," Petunia smiled. "He is looking for a cure!"

"On Dumbledore's orders!" Harry retorted. "But...I suppose we'll see if he's changed his opinions of me or not."

With that, the three of them made their way down the many stairs, arriving a few minutes later in the Potions corridor.

_'Here we go,' _Harry thought.

Opening the door, Harry eased his way inside. His arms were trembling slightly, and he felt a little weak. Figuring the stairs had taken a bit out of him, combined with his still rising blood levels, he was careful to watch where he was going, not wanting to trip over a bag or foot. The class was working in pairs on a potion, and Snape was sitting at his desk, looking over a list on a parchment, scribbling notes on another.

"I'm sorry to be late, Professor Snape, I was held up in the Hospital Wing," Harry spoke quietly, not wanting to interrupt the busy man.

"I understand, Mr. Potter," Snape's black eyes caught emerald ones. "Mr. Malfoy is in need of a partner for the sleeping draught the class is brewing today. Your relatives may sit and observe from the table at the back of the class."

"Thanks, sir," Harry turned and made his way as quickly as he could to the blond's table.

Sitting on the stool with a sigh of relief, Harry propped his crutches against the edge of the desk, and turned to his partner.

"What needs doing with the potion, Malfoy?" he asked.

The blond glanced at him.

"Cut up that Shrivelfig," he snapped. "What's with the crutches?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Harry picked up the knife and started to slice. "But I need them for a few days while I get used to being at school again."

"Why? Is poor little Potter too good to walk around on his own two feet?"

"No."

"Why then? And why were you late?" Draco's curiosity was piqued. Potter was looking pale, and Draco had noticed the slight shake to his hands.

"It's none of your business!" Harry snapped, wincing a little at a twinge in his elbow as he changed the position of his hand on the Shrivelfig.

"Harry, are you ok?" Dudley had noticed something was wrong and had moved to his side.

Harry looked up, and felt his head swim and his vision tilt.

"I feel...weird," he said just before the blackness overtook him.

Dudley managed to catch his cousin as he slid off the stool in a dead faint. Lowering him carefully to the floor, he leaned over to check his breathing.

"Harry!" Petunia was at his side in an instant, Ron and Hermione following.

Snape stood smoothly and pointed his wand at the unconcious boy. Levitating him, he began to move to the door.

"Draco, watch the class. Any unsuitable behaviour is to be reported to me," he snapped. "Mrs. and Mr. Dursley, follow me."

He swept from the room, Harry following, Dudley picked up the crutches, and followed his mother and cousin.

The door shut firmly, and Draco was left silent in the midst of the whispers that broke out all over the room. Hermione and Ron returned to their cauldron, a heated conversation taking place over the bubbling liquid.

"Everyone back to work!" Draco snapped, eyes still planted on the Boy-Who-Lived's empty stool. "Don't want to be failed, do you?"

A/N: Wow! That was long! Hope it was ok for you! Please let me know what you think!

Love,

Len.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Hey!I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update anything. I've been really busy with work, and haven't gotten much time to write. It's been worse with my hours being so unsociable, I get home and all I want to do is sleep. Luckily, it's easing up now, so I'm not so tired, and can write more. I'm hoping to update everything more often, as well as working on some other things to posted at a later date.Well, I wanted to put this in the last one, but I felt it was getting a bit long, and I had to get to work, but wanted to post before I left. So, here is the next installment! Enjoy!

**Ch. 6.**

Pomfrey frowned as she scanned Harry to discover the cause of his collapse. Her frown deepened when she found the problem.

"He's fainted from blood loss," she explained to the four others in the room.

"But you gave him that potion to bring his blood levels up after you took the sample!" Dudley exclaimed. "It should've worked by now, right?"

"Yes," Pomfrey glanced down at Harry's arm. "I gave it plenty of time to work before I sent him to class. I also used a spell to heal the vein and skin where I took the sample, that should have left no trace of what occurred there, but look."

She lifted Harry's arm and showed the others the dark bruise in the crook of his elbow.

"That's what happens when you give blood the muggle way," Petunia breathed. "If enough pressure isn't put on the site, then the blood escapes the vein before it clots, and you get a bruise."

"Yes," Pomfrey answered. "But it shouldn't have occurred here."

"So the poison is interfering with healing spells and potions," Snape mused. "This isn't good. Potter's body is already weak, and if we can't do anything to heal him properly, he is at a lot more risk than we previously thought."

"What do you mean?" Dudley asked.

"Without his immune system, a simple cold could cause him to be seriously ill, but if we can't aid him magically, it could become life threatening," Pomfrey explained. "However, I don't think he's completely beyond our help. The spell did work on his arm to a degree, and there's no guarantee that some muggle equipment can't be of assistance to him."

"Nevertheless, I shall increase my efforts to find a cure," Snape looked down at Harry. "Though he and I have never gotten on well, I do admire his courage and strength. After all he's been through, for this to happen...it is nothing less than a tragedy."

He nodded at the the others gathered around the Boy-Who-Lived's bed, and made to leave the infirmary, only to be stopped by Petunia's hand on his arm.

"You better find a cure soon," she warned. "He's my nephew, my last link to my sister. I have treated him wrong in the past, and I regret that, but I will not see him die. I couldn't stand it. I would break."

"She's right," Dudley's voice was soft as he stared down at his cousin. "Harry's life has been wrong, and he deserves a chance at happiness. We can't let him go before he experiences that."

"I will do my best," was the only promise Snape could give, and after that, he swept magestically from the room, his robes billowing behind him.

"Harry will have to stay here for the rest of the day," Pomfrey said to the Dursleys. "He will probably wake up soon, so you can stay with him if you like. It's likely he'll be able to leave in time for dinner. The body replaces it's own blood cells pretty quickly, so it's unlikely he'll faint again."

The two blondes nodded and pulled up chairs, once more waiting at the hospital bedside of the young Gryffindor.

--

The nurse's assessment turned out correct, and Harry was indeed fit to leave the hospital wing for dinner. He sat quietly with Dudley, speaking only to answer his friends' questions, and reassure them he was alright. Mainly, he focused on eating the food Hermione had heaped on his plate, a healthy mix of vegetables and some meat. In the end, he only managed about half of the amount on his plate, whereas he would normally have eaten the whole lot. His appetite had been off lately, and he was looking thinner than ever, but he couldn't force himself to eat.

The Gryffindor common room was loud with chatter as the students swapped stories of their summer holidays, gossip about Harry's crutches and faint, and theories over the correct answers to their first day homework.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dudley were sitting in their favourite squishy armchairs by the fire, working on their Transfiguration essays, the only work they had that day. Harry was using the notes Hermione had copied for him that morning, and was finding them much more useful than any of his own notes in previous years. Perhaps it was because Hermione was a much more attentive student than him, and could write much faster, therefore noting down much more information. Dudley was engrossed in Harry's first year Transfiguration textbook.

"This is amazing!" the boxer announced. "Who knew that turning one thing into another could be so complicated? I always thought that magic worked simply by saying some stranged words, and imagining the effect you want."

"That's a common misconception," Hermione answered, her hand not stopping in it's flow of words. "Most muggles think magic is about imagination and some wild. primal force, when in reality, it's about control, equations and formulas."

Harry threw down his quill.

"Finished," he announced. "Thanks for the notes, Hermione. They're really helpful."

"You're welcome, Harry," the bushy haired girl answered. "I took notes from the rest of the lessons for you, since you were out."

She handed over a sheaf of paper to the raven teen.

"You are amazing!" he smiled. "Thank you so much!"

"Well I couldn't let you get behind, now, could I?" the girl's cheeks tinted pink with the praise.

"Oh, mate," Ron grinned, also finishing his essay. "You should have seen Malfoy's face after Snape took you out. He was completely shocked, didn't know how to react. Then, when he realised he was stuck all on his own with the potion, he wasn't happy at all. He nearly ruined it!"

"I felt a bit sorry for him, actually," Hermione placed her quill down neatly. "That's a difficult potion to complete on your own. It's a credit to his skill that he turned out an almost perfect potion. I suppose that's why Snape assigned him to be on his own when you were late, Harry."

"You felt _sorry_ for _Malfoy_?" Ron gaped. "Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"

"Oh shut up, Ronald," the girl snapped. "I'm just saying it couldn't have been nice for him to work alone on such a complicated potion."

Ron continued to gape at Hermione, as if she had two heads, and eventually, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"I'm going to bed," she huffed. "Goodnight."

"Night," Harry replied, in unison with the others, contemplating bed himself.

"Hey, fancy a game of chess, Harry?" Ron asked, already summoning the board.

"No, I think I'm going to go to bed too," the scarred boy replied. "But Dudley will probably play with you, if you explain how to move the pieces."

The blond nodded, and put his book aside, sitting forward to see the board. Harry bade the two of them goodnight, and made is way upstairs, leaning lightly on his crutches.

After dressing for bed, and thoroughly cleaning his teeth, he climbed into bed, and fell into a deep slumber.

A/N: Well, I hope that was ok! Please review, I'd love to know your thoughts as always!

Love,

Len


End file.
